Have you ever been afraid of yourself?
It's the worst feeling there is
because no matter what you do,
no matter what you try,
you can never escape it
because you're trapped inside yourself,
terrified of what could happen next,
afraid of who you could hurt,
afraid of what you might do.
In dreams, thoughts are only amplified.
In wakefulness, horrors become real.
You tell yourself it cant be real,
tell yourself its not who you truly are.
But it is.
And nothing can change it.
MONSTER.
Kyla Sierra Zachary.
November 2012.
Wednesday: July 8, 2009
I met this guy at work today. See, there was a giant spider in the corner just chilling and I was trying to kill it, but every time I got close to it, it would move really fast and I would just jump back and scream. It was my third or fourth attempt at slaying that beast when I noticed the new guy leaning against the wall watching me.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked him.
"Yeah." His hair hung down over his eyes, but I could see them sparkle underneath.
I rolled my eyes at him, not wanting to get into it with him. I went in for the kill again
MONSTER.
Kyla Sierra Zachary.
November 2012.
Wednesday: July 8, 2009
I met this guy at work today. See, there was a giant spider in the corner just chilling and I was trying to kill it, but every time I got close to it, it would move really fast and I would just jump back and scream. It was my third or fourth attempt at slaying that beast when I noticed the new guy leaning against the wall watching me.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked him.
"Yeah." His hair hung down over his eyes, but I could see them sparkle underneath.
I rolled my eyes at him, not wanting to get into it with him. I went in for the kill again
It was the October/November portion of 2009. I was thirteen then. It's weird now to think that it's been multiple years since it happened. It's a story I've tried to tell many times. So many times, in fact, that over the years it's become distorted and altered. I don't know who knows the real story anymore. Maybe only one person really does.
They say that there are stages to grief and trauma. The two words don't really seem to go together, do they? Well, even though they're based generally on the same principals, there is a difference between the stages of grief and the sta
Soft hands. Soft skin. Soft eyes that hold a warm gaze. Warm touch. Warm body curled around mine, keeping me safe. Safe friend. Safe secrets. The scar on your knee you don't like to talk about. Rough patch. The rough side of your face when you haven't shaved in days. Your beard. Your hair. The curls showing from under your hat. That hat. Those shoes. Everything familiar about you. Familiar smile. Familiar face. Security. Holding me tightly. Tight jeans. Tight chain around your neck. Your ring. The ring on my finger. The ring around my body that night in the bath. Heat. Steam. The first night. The first week. That
Hey guys~! This is a song written, produced and sung by a classmate of mine, he's talented at what he does, and I wanna get his name out there, he only has one song out FOR NOW, but he and I would appreciate it a lot of you gave it feedback, comment, and subscribe for more songs. And if you like it enough, share it with your friends, because this is one cute song <3 (:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wqAjqzmaUI
The Rape Joke by Lora Mathis by imreallyNOTokay, journal
The Rape Joke by Lora Mathis
"The rape joke is that you were eight.
The rape joke is that at the time,
you didn’t know people had sex to express love.
The rape joke is that the only other person
who’d seen you naked was your mom.
The rape joke is that he called you ‘beautiful’ first.
The rape joke is that he held your hands together
and told you to ‘try harder’ when you struggled.
The rape joke is that you believed him
when he told you were overreacting.
The rape joke is that your grandma
called him a nice boy and asked him to stay for dinner.
The rape joke is that he winked at you
when you apologized to your parents for not coming
dow
MONSTER.
Kyla Sierra Zachary.
November 2012.
Wednesday: July 8, 2009
I met this guy at work today. See, there was a giant spider in the corner just chilling and I was trying to kill it, but every time I got close to it, it would move really fast and I would just jump back and scream. It was my third or fourth attempt at slaying that beast when I noticed the new guy leaning against the wall watching me.
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked him.
"Yeah." His hair hung down over his eyes, but I could see them sparkle underneath.
I rolled my eyes at him, not wanting to get into it with him. I went in for the kill again
I looked at the two boys that stood in my kitchen. I can't really remember anymore what one of them looked like, or ever what his name was, but Keenan was as stunning as ever. There were so many things that first drew me to Keenan: the way his long, black hair fell across his face... the way his black-rimmed, ice blue eyes always stared coldly from beneath his bangs... the way his skin was a blinding white. I guess what first attracted me to him wasn't actually a wanting, but more of a curiosity. He was different - scary, even - and there was just something about his presence
If you don't want me... that's fine. It you don't need me... whatever. If you just wanna hate on me... go ahead. I'm used to all of it.
If you wanna love me... be my guest. If you wanna hold me... please feel free. If you wanna praise me... I'm not stopping you. Give me a new experience.
Current Residence: California Favourite genre of music: rock or country Operating System: Mac (win!) MP3 player of choice: iPod Personal Quote: In this game of hide-and-go-seek, I don't have to hide.... Nobody's looking for me.
i just made a music video to The Band Perry's "If I Die Young"
please please please watch it and leave me a comment either here or on the video letting me know what you think. it really means a lot to me.
i wonder that sometimes. yea, i know it's weird. maybe offensive. but im honestly curious sometimes. when i was younger, i always used to try to dress like a boy.. but my parents always told me that i was just being silly. growing up, when i started writing short stories, i always wrote in first person from the perspective of a male character. and getting older and hitting puberty and everything, i would have sexual fantasies about being the guy that got to hook up with the girl.
part of me is really curious... if, when i was younger, my parents had embraced my dressing like a boy instead of telling me i was silly... would i have ended
its times like these i wish i was religious in some way. theres a certain comfort in being able to believe in some sort of heaven or some like god that u can talk to and pray to. but i cant make myself believe in any of that as much as i want to. and that sucks.
RIP CHRIS
you were way too young